


Broken Promises

by gaymoth11



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, DNF, Daddy Issues, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, M/M, Misogyny, Orlando Florida, Slow Burn, brief sapnap - Freeform, brighton england, burn - Freeform, definitely not reflecting what, dreamnotfound, humor and avoidance are valid coping mechanisms, inspired by Dirty Laundry and Chasing Snowflakes, literally though why did i give him such bad daddy issues, no beta we die like men, plot ig?, pretending to date for the sake of messing with george's fake dad, reference to traditional gender roles, slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaymoth11/pseuds/gaymoth11
Summary: George wasn’t gay. But he was petty.So when his father had jokingly (with a good bit of borderline homophobia and after commenting on his oldest son’s lack of a girlfriend and, apparently, proper masculinity) asked if he would be bringing a boyfriend home for Christmas, he hadn’t hesitated before saying yes. Now, he really wish he had hesitated, or at least thought it through- because now he has less than a week to find a fake boyfriend to take home to Brighton, and keep up the lie for the next month.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Broken Promises

**Author's Note:**

> CW- MISOGYNY, HOMOPHOBIA, REFERENCE TO TRADITIONAL GENDER ROLES, HARDCORE DADDY ISSUES  
> Rated Teen and Up for Swearing
> 
> Please be respectful- just because both Dream and George say they are okay with being shipped and fanfictions, doesn't mean they shouldn't still be treated like human beings. I will not be writing anything explicit out of respect for the both of them, and if they ever express discomfort with shipping and/or fanfics, this will be taken down. It is being written simply because I didn't feel like making my own characters for this story, and I will not be viewing the characters as the real people they actually are. This is purely for entertainment purposes, and to scratch the writing itch I have.

George wasn’t gay. But he was petty. 

So when his father had jokingly (with a good bit of borderline homophobia and after commenting on his oldest son’s lack of a girlfriend and, apparently, proper masculinity) asked if he would be bringing a boyfriend home for Christmas, he hadn’t hesitated before saying yes. Now, he really wish he  _ had  _ hesitated, or at least thought it through- because now he has less than a week to find a fake boyfriend to take home to Brighton, and keep up the lie for the next month. 

The obvious first choice had been Clay. The two had been living together for nearly two years now and knew each other more than their families did, even before George had moved all the way from his hometown in England to the hot, populated town of Orlando, Florida. It had been a big change for George, but by this point, he’d gotten used to the scolding weather that surrounded him the entire year- he had never lived through a hot winter, and now he understood why his best friend had reacted so surprised when he talked about all of the snow he got back home. 

Something about taking Clay back to Brighton as his pretend boyfriend, and introducing him to his family- it didn’t sit right with George. Of course, he’d met with the other’s family on numerous occasions now, so it wouldn’t be anything too unusual for them, and he knew Clay wouldn’t have trouble building off the lie, but that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling the brunet could feel pooling in his stomach. 

In the end, he’d ended up talking to Clay about it, just trying to brush over it quickly as the two ate dinner one night- two days before George’s plane was scheduled. Surprisingly, his roommate hadn’t even asked for any details before agreeing to do it. His parents and sister were travelling for the holidays, so he’d be all alone without George there, was what he told him. George accepted that answer, and before the two of them knew it, they were boarding the 5am EST plane to Brighton. 

Clay had passed out before they’d even taken off- it had been a struggle even getting the man out of bed that morning, a common occurrence with him- but George’s nerves were keeping him up, so once the plane had reached cruising altitude, he’d settled back in his seat and powered up his mp3 player, slipping his headphones in and putting his music on shuffle. He had a lot of his mind, as anyone could clearly tell with the way his eyebrows furrowed just slightly as he stared out the window, an almost grimace taking over his features as he tried to think up a sort of backstory for their relationship- he'd fill Clay in when he woke up sometime throughout the twelve hour flight, wanting to make sure they were both on the same page. They couldn’t be suspicious, fumbling over details of their past or telling people different things. 

By the time Clay eventually woke up five hours later, George had their entire history planned out- they'd met after he moved to Florida, after George had gotten lost trying to walk to the supermarket one of his first weeks in America. Clay had asked him for his number after directing him there, and the two had started talking. A whole three months afterwards, Clay had finally asked him out on a date, and several ones after that, and a month later the two were officially dating. They’d moved in together a year ago, and George hadn’t told his family because he ‘was waiting until he could do it in person.’ He figured that lie would be acceptable, as he was generally a pretty private person anyways, and had a habit of not telling his parents too much about his personal life. 

“Wait, you told them I  _ what _ ?” Clay snorted loudly, quickly apologizing to the person beside him who was trying to sleep before turning back to George. “I can’t believe you told them I’m in law school. Do I even  _ look  _ like I’m in law school? I don’t know anything about law, I couldn’t hold a conversation about it.” 

George just gave him a weak smile in response, his anxiety overshadowing his desire to make sure his best friend wasn’t actually upset with him. “I kind of panicked, and I knew they’d like... approve or whatever if you were becoming a lawyer.” He wasn’t even sure why he  _ wanted  _ his family to approve of Clay. It wasn’t like they were actually dating; he was only doing this to make his father uncomfortable and to get him to hopefully stop being so homophobic. Just because George wasn’t gay, didn’t mean he wasn’t an ally. He’d be betraying all of his LGBTQ friends to just let someone close to him be a dick. 

“You are so lucky I like you, George. I’m going to have to come up with so much stuff on the spot,” Clay murmured, and George couldn’t help but take a moment to just focus on the other’s voice. He’d only woken up a few minutes prior to being bombarded with a fake backstory, and his voice was still rough and a bit deeper than usual from sleep. George didn’t respond for a moment, a quiet thought in the back of his head that- “George? Earth to Gogy?” He snapped his eyes back to his best friend’s face, looking apologetic. 

“Yeah, sorry, I’m so tired, I keep zoning out. Where did we leave off again?” he questioned, tapping his thin fingers against the pair of dark jeans he was wearing. His shirt was long-sleeved and striped with white and blue- George's favorite color and one of the only ones he saw normally. It was safe to say that most of his closet was filled with blues and yellows. 

“You were talking about how you told your parents I’m in  _ law _ school.” 

George quickly regrouped his thoughts to respond, and attempt to explain the rest of their story. “I just told them the real reason that you came with me,” he told him, causing a confused look to appear on Clay’s face, lips parting slightly as he watched George for a moment. “How your family is travelling?” he reminded him, rolling his eyes lightly at his friend’s memory- usually, his memory was very articulate, and he remembered even the littlest of things. George blew the little mistake off as the other being tired and having just woken up. 

The blond’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, and he nodded. “Right, sorry. I’m just tired,” he dismissed quickly, and George immediately believed him- that was what he had thought the problem was, anyways. Clay seemed to be relieved at George’s response, one of his small smiles making its way back onto his face now. George thought he saw a hint of nervousness in his eyes, but on the outside, his friend looked his calm and unbothered self, so he ignored it. 

“You’re fine. So, when we get there-” George cut himself off with a yawn, hand covering his mouth quickly. Clay looked amused now, letting his head rest lightly enough against his headrest that he could gaze over at his best friend. 

He started talking before George could continue with what he was saying. “Have you slept at all since the plane took off?” he questioned, eyes softening in concern for the man practically passing out beside him. 

It was true, George did feel a little tired- his nerves were keeping him from sleeping, but there was no ignoring the feeling of lead in his eyes. It didn’t help that Clay could see right through him, and whatever mask he tried to use to hide how he was actually feeling. 

Clay seemingly didn’t need a response from George, considering the way he didn’t wait for one. “You should try to sleep.” 

The brunet was quick to protest, but it was hard to insist that he ‘just wasn’t tired’ when the way his eyes were fighting to stay open betrayed him. He yawned again, his best friend giving him a pointed look from beside him. 

Eyes narrowing slightly, George sunk back into his seat. “Maybe I should try to at least take a small nap,” he admitted, slipping his left headphone back into his ear so that he could hear Clay from his right side if he needed anything. “Wake me up before we start descending?” 

Clay nodded, giving a thumbs up and tugging the hood of his iconic green hoodie back over his head. George had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting woken up before the plane started descending- at the moment, however, he was a little too tired to care. Leaning back and shutting his eyes, it wasn’t long before he succumbed to sleep. 

_ George woke up to complete darkness surrounding him. A panicked look covered his face as he stood, the seat that had previously been sitting it disappearing into nothing. _

_ “Clay?” he called out, attempting a step forward as his eyes frantically scanned the pitch black for his best friend. Hadn't they just been together, on the plane? Where had he gone? And where was George, even? _

_ A thin line of light appeared in front of him, and as George cautiously moved forward, he could see that it was the result of a door that looked awfully familiar to the door to his room in his family’s home back in Brighton. He hadn’t even remembered getting off the plane, but he guessed jet lag did that to you. _

_ Faint laughter echoed from beyond the door, followed by someone loudly expressing their affections- to Clay, it seemed. That was... odd. It sounded almost like George’s father. He furrowed his dark eyebrows, taking another step towards the door. And another. And another. The closer he felt that we was getting, the farther away the door seemed. _

_ But he had to get there. He felt left out, unincluded from whatever was happening in what he presumed to be the family room. It only sounded like his father and Clay were in there, and usually, his dad didn’t get along well with any of his friends, or partners, that he brought home. _

_ And it wasn’t a secret that George didn’t have a good relationship with his dad growing up. He seemed to have a vision of what his ‘perfect son’ would turn out like, and aside from being his son, George didn’t fill any of the other characters. His father wanted him to graduate top of his class, and become a lawyer. Get a girlfriend. Marry her a little further down the line. But George wasn’t good with relationships, and he’d always struggled in school. While his mother had been supportive when he decided to not go to university and continue pursuing his dream of gaming, his dad had shown nothing but disappointment- he didn’t speak to George for weeks afterwards. That hadn’t been the first time, either, and no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t seem to do anything to make his father proud of him throughout his childhood. After graduating was when he’d finally realized that he should be making himself happy, and that was how he’d gotten to where he was. That, and with Clay’s support. His best friend since their early teens. _

_ Who was holding a conversation with his father like they’d known each other for years, cracking jokes that made him laugh like George had never heard- nothing he’d ever been able to accomplish, at least. _

_ He felt his stomach drop, and he began sprinting towards the door. Now, the laughter coming from behind it sounded almost mocking. Looking forward, the door was farther than it had been before he’d started moving towards it. He stopped, a loud noise of frustration escaping him as he stared helplessly as the door swung open, allowing him to fully see the room’s occupants. _

_ “George.” _

_ He heard a familiar voice speak to him, from a point he couldn’t discern- it sounded like it was surrounding him. He froze, eyes flicking around quickly as the light, and the door, disappeared. _

_ “Hello?” he called out, whipping his head around to scan the darkness. _

_ “George!” It was louder this time. And it was Clay. His figure appeared about 15 feet out, George’s dad- tall and strong, with the face of someone who you could tell didn’t love their children- standing beside him, with the widest grin on his face that George had ever seen in his 24 years of life. _

_ “...Clay? Dad? What are you guys doing?” Confusion coated George’s voice, posture sinking as his eyes moved between the two. _

_ Henry let his hand move to rest on Clay’s shoulder, the Floridian only two inches shorter than him- a remarkable feat it was, to be almost as tall as Henry Davidson. His height had been a contributing factor to George’s uneasiness around his father since he was only little- still, he could hear his father’s comments on his own height, a mere 5 feet and 8 inches, echoing through his head. “Why couldn’t you be more like Clay, here? You’d be much less disappointing if you weren’t so much of a pussy, you know.” _

_ George’s mouth went dry, and as he scrambled for something to say, his father just shook his head. _

_ “You couldn’t at least  _ try  _ to make me proud?” Those words hit George right in the gut, and he felt himself physically stumbling back. One would figure he was used to it, by now- but his father’s words never failed to hurt him. _

_ He still couldn’t fight his brain to think of something to say back before Clay joined in. _

_ “No offense, George, but look at you,” he laughed, a bitterness to his voice that George wasn’t sure he’d ever heard directed towards him before. It sounded horrible; he wanted it to stop. “Maybe you actually  _ are  _ gay.” _

_ He squeezed his eyes shut, stepping back. This time, he lost his balance, falling back onto his ass. Laughter immediately surrounded him, and he covered his ears as his dad and who he thought was his best friend mocked him. _

_ “George?” he heard that same familiar voice speak, only it sounded... different this time. It was softer. That laughter was still there, but his eyes fluttered upon, and he searched for the source of the softer voice. “George, wake up,” it murmured, and George stood, watching the fading figures of Clay and his dad. _

“George, are you up yet?” he heard a quiet voice ask, sounding right next to his right ear. Faint music still entered the left one. 

His eyes snapped out, meeting with startled ones directly above him. He sat up quickly, and Clay moved back as George’s eyes drifted to look outside the window- they were nearing the ground, and his hands shot to the seatbelt he definitely remembered taking off once it had been safe to. He decided not to overthink it, probably having forgot he did it. 

“How long have you been up?” George questioned through a yawn, hand raising to cover his mouth. He could hear Clay hold back a laugh, and while he’d normally make some annoyed comment, he couldn’t bring himself to at the moment- his mind was on that dream he’d had. What the fuck was that about? 

Clay shrugged, rolling up the sleeves of his sweatshirt to his elbows. The movement drew George’s eyes down, and he got a quick glimpse of the other’s larger hands before he looked down to his own. He’d been cursed with small, smooth hands, a trait he'd learned to hate about himself despite the crude- and admittedly funny- jokes Clay made about them.

“Like an hour?” he offered, and George nodded. That was an acceptable answer, he decided. The other had slept on the plane for quite a while, which slightly made up for both the time he’d gone to bed the night before and how early they’d woken up that morning. 

The two were silent as the plane landed, and as they grabbed their carry  ons and stood to leave. It was dark outside, because while it would only be around 5pm for them back in Orlando, it was nearing 10pm here in Brighton. Their sleep schedules were going to be fucked, but on the bright side, George wasn’t going to have to interact with his family too much until the next morning. He still dreaded his first interaction with his father, though.

It didn’t take too long to get their suitcases and head out into the parking lot, George obviously knowing the way through his hometown airport. His parents were waiting for the two of them right outside, and his mother nearly tackled him almost instantly. He had to drop his suitcase and carry on to support the both of them, a wide grin spreading across his face. Luckily, his mother was only about 5’2- she made anyone look tall, even George.

“Georgie, we missed you so much back home. Two years is way too long for a mother to not be able to see her only son,” she scolded, pulling back from him and smoothing out his hair, a bit of an awkward smile on George’s face despite how happy he was to see his mother- that feeling was pushed down due to the snickers the man beside him was trying to hold back. The quiet laughter faded as soon as Olivia turned to place her scrutinizing gaze on George’s ‘boyfriend.’ For the next month he was, at least. “You must be Clay, sweetheart.  Its so good to meet you. I’m George’s mom, Olivia. But please call me Liv." While she spoke, she moved towards him and wrapped her arms around him for a few moments before shifting back only slightly- she was a hugger, clearly. Henry, on the other hand, was standing in front of the car, an unreadable expression on his face. The smile he was wearing was very clearly forced, though, and George had a feeling his mom was the reason it was there in the first place. His eyes were cold, and he was silently watching them.

Clay was a little taken off, but he nodded, giving a smile so big that it took even George a moment to be able to tell how uncomfortable he was. He stepped in, beckoning his best friend back. “Okay, Mum, Clay is happy to meet you, but he isn’t too much of a fan of affection,” he excused, and his mom apologized quickly.

“Sorry, Clay, sweetheart. I’m just so overjoyed to meet you- George has never brought someone home to us before. We’re just glad to see him happy,” she claimed, a warm smile on her face as she moved to open the trunk of the car for them, shutting it again once their luggage was safely in. As she got into the passenger’s side of the car- something Clay watched for a moment with confusion, before remembering he wasn’t in America anymore. George snorted quietly, opening the door to the backseat and beckoning Clay in before climbing in after him, muttering a ‘stupid  american ’ that just made his best friend roll his eyes as he got situated, putting his seatbelt on. The blond was just a little too big for the seat, but he was used to his stupidly long legs not fitting places by this point in his life- George would never stop laughing at him, though.

No one spoke until at least five minutes later, the music drifting from the radio distracting them for the most part. But when the silence was broken, it was broken by George’s dad saying the first thing he had since they’d all greeted each other at the airports.

“It's nice to see you, George. How have you been doing?” Honestly, George hadn’t been expecting that, of all things- it gave him this weird feeling, though. It wasn’t a feeling too unfamiliar to younger George, constantly seeking his father’s approval.

“Oh, good. I’ve been pretty good. Home is so much different than Brighton is.” It slipped out before George was able to catch it. That word, home- obviously, his home was back in Florida with Clay, but how would his parents feel about that?

The car went silent, basically answering his question; George seemed to look a panicked, apparently, because Clay quickly jumped in.

“Yeah, Florida is really hot. I think I prefer it here already, though, everything is so much calmer,” he claimed, eyes convincingly trailing along the landscaping outside for a moment before he turned back in to look up at Olivia. “I can’t wait to get to see around. George seemed really excited to be coming back.” 

One of Clay’s many talents- breaking tension. And George wasn’t sure if he’d ever appreciated it as much as he was now.

Olivia gave a wide smile, turning her head to look at the two boys. “Well, you two will have the whole day tomorrow for Georgie to take you sightseeing, Clay. I’m sure you’ll love it,” she insisted, seeming confident with that answer. And from what George could tell, his friend was as well.

It wasn’t long before they were pulling into the driveway of George’s childhood home, a decently sized place that just seemed to expel warmth- Olivia's doing, of course.

The four of them left the car, Henry heading to unlock the front door as Olivia helped the two boys open the trunk of the car and grab their bags. “Now, Hen and I are probably going to head to bed, but you two  feel free to do whatever. I’m sure you remember the way to your room, Georgie. I changed the sheets on the bed for you two last night,” she informed them, and George’s mouth went dry. He’d forgotten that he’d be sharing a room with Clay. Obviously, he would be- they were supposed to be dating. He just didn’t have to like it.

George gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before she headed upstairs, Henry watching the two boys for a moment with just the hint of a judging look on his face before following after his wife. Sighing, George started to lead Clay through the house. Most of the bedrooms were on the second floor, but George’s was on the first floor, back behind the living room with a door leading out to the back deck. Everything looked the same when he walked in- the same beige walls, the same bed with the black frame and blue bed sheets. He set his things down on the floor, gesturing for Clay to do the same- but the other man had gotten distracted, and when George followed his eyes, his gaze stopped on the pictures hanging above his old desk and old gaming set up.

“Oh, yeah- I forgot I had that up there,” George murmured, averting his gaze to find himself a set of pajamas.

The picture Clay had taken notice of was one of many- this one being a screenshot from an old facetime of theirs, in which Clay was wearing one of those pairs of clout goggles George had made his brand and making a stupid face. George absolutely loved that picture, and his wall had several others of both Clay and Nick.

The blond left it alone for now, setting his stuff down next to George’s.

“Hold on, I’m going to change  real quick,” the other man claimed, ducking into what seemed to be a bathroom door connected to his bedroom. Lucky.

George wasn’t gone too long, coming back a few minutes later in blue plaid pajama pants and a black shirt. Clay had changed while he was gone as well- donning sweatpants and that green hoodie still. It looked comfy, so the brunet couldn’t judge.

“I don’t know how well your freakishly long legs with fit on my bed, but you can try,” George told him, grabbing the fluffy blue blanket at the foot of his bed, a pillow, and his phone charger before moving to his window seat and getting situated. Clay watched him, a little confused.

“You’re not planning on sleeping there, are you?” he questioned, sitting on the edge of the blue bed. George just shrugged, unlocking his phone.

“Obviously. I’m not making  _ you  _ sleep here.” He said it so nonchalantly, like it was nothing. Clay immediately opened his mouth to argue, but George cut him off. “Argue with me about it tomorrow morning. I’m too tired.” The younger was obviously too jet lagged to argue as well, judging by the way he just sighed and fell back onto the bed.

“Fine. I’m not going to enjoy it, though.”

George felt the corners of his lips quirk up in amusement. “Whatever you say,” he hummed, opening up his messages to quickly let Nick know they’d landed fine, and they had made it to George’s old house. Nick was always worrying about his friends- it was kind of sweet, and he always made sure to let him know him and his concerns were appreciated. After he responded to the text he got back, he plugged his phone in and set it aside. Clay had stood to get his own charger, so he shut the lights off.

“You’re going to love Brighton. We have a lot to see tomorrow,” George told him, a soft smile making its way onto his face. He truly did love his hometown- it would always hold a special place in his heart, no matter where ‘home’ was now.

Clay nodded. “I’m sure I will. It looks amazing already,” he claimed, leaning back into George’s bed. The older boy watched him quietly, eyes drifting over and meeting after a moment. “Stop looking at me, you weirdo. You look tired,” he snorted, a teasing tone slipping into his voice. “If you’re not careful, you might just fall in love with me.”

George choked on his own breath, sitting up to cough before his eyes quickly found Clay’s again. “What the fuck, dude? Where did that come from?”

He just gave that dumb tea kettle laugh of his, the smile on his face way too satisfied for George’s liking. “I’m joking, I’m joking. Calm down. Just promise you won’t,” he joked, and George rolled his eyes so hard that it could give him a headache.

“You’re so annoying. I’m not going to, that’s stupid.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> My update schedule will most likely be a chapter every 1-2 weeks; I'm in school, I work, and I am mentally ill, so please be patient with me, and I will work to get chapters out for you all as soon as possible. Thank you for understanding, and enjoy the story <3


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